i havent finished studying e1

6 in the evening
eleven more hours before I wake.

a room in darkness is lost.
the icebox rattles its bones
shivers and complains. Cold
toes wrinkle and curl. Old
coffee curdles cobweb foam.
Earphones chatter forgotten
by the table lamp skeleton;

its empty eye socket glares.
My hand frozen in mid-reach
is a tableau in shadow.

I must have gone to sleep.
Eleven more hours before tomorrow.

The monsoon plays clockwork on my roof.